


Lifeline

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Bathtubs, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loneliness, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: So what Bee is going through is pretty much what I go through regularly. I've never had any "formal" diagnoses for anything, which is great. instead, I just flop like Bee is in this.Please heed the tags when reading
Relationships: Beelzebub & Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 18





	Lifeline

Depression is like drowning. It’s always been difficult for people to describe the feeling of depression. Drowning always seems to fit best though. Whenever they get close to the top, water is filling their lungs and they’re sinking right back down.

They’re fighting with the waves to hit the top, getting dragged down by the currents and there’s no one trying to help – as though everyone is filming on their cell phones to fill social media later.

Sometimes, people have someone to help them, as though they’re throwing a rope for the person to grab onto; a lifeline. Beelzebub has never had that in their life, they’ve always sunk to the depths on their own.

Following Armageddon and the failed punishments, Beelzebub only sunk deeper. They’ve been cast from Hell for failing as the Duke, they’re entirely mortal and it _sucks._ There’s no nice way to put it – humans have it rough. Beelzebub never knew how bad humans have it, though now they regret all of the hurt that they caused for humans over the years.

Poverty, sickness, hurt, and death are only a handful of the countless things that humans cope with. Most of the time, humans get through it without any help too. Beelzebub knows that there are some humans who go to get support from trained professionals, though those are rare with the deteriorating state of the medical system around the world.

Of course, they could seek support through those systems – the UK system doesn’t sound so bad. Beelzebub knows, though, that if they tried to talk about the horrors that they’ve seen throughout the ages, that they’ll be thrown into an asylum. _How could anyone understand the horrors that they’ve seen when they can’t even understand them?_

So instead of seeking support, Beelzebub lets their depression overwhelm them in waves. They do have someone who’s there though, their own personal lifeguard, so to say. Gabriel has always been there, waiting for them. The relationship was a weird one that flourished after they were both cast to Earth to be humans, _mortal._

Gabriel had gone to Aziraphale’s bookshop for support, Beelzebub had found Crowley at the Ritz. They met at the angel’s bookshop, and their friendship formed there in the night.

Aziraphale and Crowley had fallen asleep, Beelzebub was scared to close their eyes and Gabriel has never fully understood sleep.

They were talking through the night, and when morning came and the sun was rising, their friendship was blossoming into something more. They didn’t tell Aziraphale and Crowley at first. After the way the pair were treated, it would be more than a slap to the face for the former Duke of Hell and _God’s Favourite Angel_ to be dating.

The relationship did eventually become public knowledge – Aziraphale had wandered into Gabriel’s flat without knocking, and he was rather taken aback to find the pair making out on the sofa, with clothing strewn around the floor. After that, Aziraphale ensured that he would knock before he enters _anywhere_ now.

Whenever Beelzebub thinks of Gabriel, they get a small smile on their face. The former angel has always been a shoulder for Beelzebub.

They’re drowning again.

They can feel themselves slipping under, the waves are covering their neck and getting higher. Their breath is shaky, their hands are shaking and the world around them is spinning. They don’t know what to do, or where to turn.

Gabriel isn’t going to be back for at least another day, some job with Aziraphale has taken him away. Beelzebub had told Gabriel that they’d be fine, and not to worry. They regret that now though; they’re stewing in their depression and they don’t know what to do.

They _could_ talk to Crowley – maybe even go to the pub for a drink.

But they don’t have the energy to.

So they don’t.

They look around the bedroom: it’s dark, messy, it almost matches Beelzebub’s mood. They should tidy it: there are clothes that could go in the hamper; pots that need to be washed; empty take-out cartons to trash, amongst various other things. But Beelzebub only curls up at Gabriel’s side of the bed and tries to get comfortable.

Minutes turn to hours, they’re all uneventful and forgotten within seconds. Gabriel’s side of the bed is always so warm, it’s as though he’s still here. It helps Beelzebub with coping. They can wrap the duvet around themself in just the right way that it feels as though Gabriel is there with them; like he’s holding them.

In reality, they’re alone. The bed’s empty, the flat’s empty and they’re cuddling the duvet, but for a few moments, they can imagine that Gabriel is with them and that’s enough.

There’s a blade, hiding in their underwear drawer. Gabriel never looks in there, it’s easy to hide. They _want_ to reach over and _use_ it. But they don’t even have the energy to do that. Everything requires too much energy that they just can’t give. They _want_ to hurt themself; they want to feel pain instead of feeling _nothing._

It should be so easy to pull it over; Gabriel rarely sees them naked anyway. But it requires too much effort. They can pull it over – they have done it countless times before. The effort to actually hurt themself though, that’s more than they have. They pull the drawer open, the blade lands beside them on the bed. It looks as though it’s starting to rust – _should probably replace it._

They _want_ to hurt themself; they feel nothing – anything is better than nothing. But they don’t even have the energy to make themself feel. The sun is setting – the room is filled with a faint orange glow signalling that night is coming.

Beelzebub doesn’t like the night; they know what lies in the darkened corners and how dangerous it is. The blade hits the wall, _ping._ It falls to the carpet silently, lost in a pile of clothing that _should_ be moved to the hamper.

The curtains briefly blow in a slight wind. The noise of the flapping irritates Beelzebub, it’s too loud and too much. There’s a slight tapping, though they don’t know where it’s from. They do know that it’s only making their hearing so much worse. They feel as though their senses are overloaded, and yet, it’s almost silent in the room. They can’t understand it, the smallest of sounds are sending them into a meltdown. It happens regularly, and Gabriel never understands what the cause is. _Beelzebub doesn’t either._

They pull the pillow over their head: it briefly silences the tapping, but it only gets louder after a few moments. Everything gets too much; they’re struggling to cope. They’ve tried everything that has been suggested to them to try and stop these overloads. Nothing has worked; no matter how much they turn up the music, no matter how much they try to focus on something else, they still end up in an overload like this. 

On particularly bad nights, they’re struggling to keep the tears at bay and unable to keep their body from shaking. Tonight doesn’t look like it’s going to be _that_ bad though. They hope it won’t be, anyway. 

The bed is cold. Gabriel should be here. He keeps the bed warm. 

His arms anchor Beelzebub to the real world, they can’t lose themself in their head when Gabriel is here. 

The weighted duvet is calming them. 

Sleep doesn’t find them particularly well: the bed is cold and empty without Gabriel here. 

It’s a restless sleep, but it’s sleep.

Beelzebub is awake before the sun has risen. They watch as the light shines through the crack in the curtains, it illuminates the room. It almost spotlights the mess of the room. Beelzebub can’t help but cringe.

They don’t move from the bed. 

They should - there are countless things that Beelzebub should be doing: preparing for Gabriel’s return; tidying; eating; cleaning. There’s plenty of things that should be done, and yet, Beelzebub doesn’t have the energy to do any. 

They hear the phone ring, it’s too loud, too much effort to move and answer it. _If it’s important, they’ll ring back later,_ Beelzebub thinks, _Gabriel might be back by then, he can answer it._

Morning passes to noon, and then early afternoon and Gabriel should be returning soon. It _should_ prompt Beelzebub to move and do something, _anything._ But they can’t physically bring themself to get up from the bed. 

They hear the door open: _Gabriel’s home._ He calls out for Bee, for his lover, though he gets no response. Beelzebub can hear every movement from Gabriel: the way he drops his bags to the floor, the few steps he takes into the flat to find them. They hear how Gabriel makes his way towards the bedroom, mumbling something about the flat being a mess. 

The bedroom door opens, and Gabriel’s form fills the doorframe. 

“Bee, couldn’t you have…” He trails off. He sees the way they’re curled up, staring blankly at the wall.

“Bee?” Gabriel asks. He shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, stroking his hand over Beelzebub’s side. 

He watches as they shift under his touch, though they show nothing to suggest that they’re awake, conscious, or even listening to him.

Gabriel watches them for a few moments before pressing again. There’s no answer again. He shifts to kneel in front of them, stroking his thumb over their cheek. They lean into the touch, a stray tear racing down their cheek, meeting Gabriel’s hand. He leans forward, pressing his lips against their forehead. 

“My bee” He murmurs. They lean into his touch slightly, though the tears are flowing freely. Gabriel eases them to sit up, pulling them close into his arms. Gabriel strokes his hand over their back as sobs wrack through their body. 

Gabriel holds them tightly, letting them settle in his arms. They don’t move for a while, though at some point, Gabriel shifts to sit on the bed and hold Beelzebub in his arms. 

Shaky breaths hit Gabriel’s neck. 

“Bee?” He murmurs. They let out a little hum, though they say nothing. Gabriel strokes his fingers over their back. 

“I’m here now, it’s okay” He murmurs. Beelzebub nods, shifting to sit back. Their eyes meet Gabriel’s - a clash of purple and blue. 

“I’m sorry” Beelzebub mumbles. 

“I wanted to tidy up; I wanted to cook dinner and…” Beelzebub trails off. Gabriel shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about those things” He murmurs. He leans forward, pressing his lips against their forehead. 

“Instead of cooking, and tidying, and whatever else, I think we should go and take a bath together, then order a takeaway, watch a movie and waste the rest of the day away” Gabriel suggests. Beelzebub gives a small smile, and that’s all Gabriel needs.

He shifts to sit Beelzebub on the bed, kneeling in front of them.

“I’ll go fill the tub, then we can talk about the past few days” Gabriel suggests. Beelzebub nods and smiles slightly, leaning forward to hug Gabriel again.

Gabriel smiles and pulls them close, pressing his lips against their forehead before he stood up and wandered off towards the bathroom.

After a few minutes, Beelzebub stands up and makes their way towards the bathroom. They lean against the doorframe, watching Gabriel. He turns to face them; a small smile covers his face. He steps forward and pulls them into his arms. Beelzebub rests their head over his heart, inhaling his scent.

Gabriel strokes his fingers through their hair. The pair doesn’t move for a while, though eventually, they do move. Gabriel tugs his shirt off, tossing it towards the laundry hamper before his trousers follow. He eases into the tub a moment later, watching as Beelzebub climbs in beside him.

They lay on his chest, his arms wound around their waist. Gabriel presses his lips against their head, stroking his fingers over their back.

“How were your days away?” Beelzebub murmurs, stroking their fingers over Gabriel’s chest.

“It was alright I guess, wasn’t exactly bad but it wasn’t great either” Gabriel responds. He strokes his fingers over their back again, hugging them loosely. Beelzebub lets out a shaky breath.

“It was horrible here…” Beelzebub admits.

“I missed you” They add. Gabriel holds them tighter, pressing his lips against the top of Beelzebub’s head.

“I’m here now, you’re not alone” He promises. Beelzebub nods as a tear races from their eye. Gabriel reaches down and presses his lips against the top of Beelzebub’s head again. 

“I’m here, forever” He promises. Beelzebub nods, hugging Gabriel tightly. 


End file.
